


There'll Be Peace When You Are Done

by Emi_theSassiestSousa



Series: Codas and Fix-It's [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues (Supernatural), Castiel in the Empty (Supernatural), Death from Old Age, Declarations Of Love, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Dean Winchester, Leader Sam Winchester, M/M, Michael Possessing Adam Milligan, Minor Michael/Adam Milligan, References to Depression, Rescue Missions, and happy endings, queer people deserve happy lives, so we're gonna give him LOVE, the supernatural finale isn't canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emi_theSassiestSousa/pseuds/Emi_theSassiestSousa
Summary: The finale we deserved. Sam, Dean, and Jack devise a plan to rescue Cas from the Empty. Sam gets affirmation, Dean speaks his piece, Castiel gets the love he deserves, Jack gets an apology, and Adam gets to be in the damn story. The queer people all live, and it wasn't even hard.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: Codas and Fix-It's [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1210674
Comments: 50
Kudos: 260





	There'll Be Peace When You Are Done

**Author's Note:**

> The 2hr finale we deserved. CW can suck a cactus.
> 
> 11-25-2020: This finale was written before dub-gate.  
> "Yo a ti, Cas."  
> Yo a ti.
> 
> 11-26-2020: I remembered a little something about ribs. For those who have already read this, there's a small new addition to the epilogue, in the second-to-last section. Honestly, it fixed a pacing thing that was bugging me anyway, so now, super-for-sure, consider this 100% complete. Enjoy ;)

### Opening: 

We hear the chords of the guitar that opens so many of our episodes and the camera fades in on Sam’s room. We follow Sam going about a typical day, waking up, getting dressed, going out for a run, etc. 

After following Sam for a while, we shift to Dean’s room, where Dean is still sleeping. His room is full of empty beer bottles, old plates, clothes on the floor— the general refuse of a life in standby.

We leave Dean’s room. Sam returns to the bunker from his run, and goes to the kitchen for his smoothie. 

He peeks at a cookie jar on the counter. 

After a slight pause, he reaches in and takes one, smiling as he takes a bite.

Sam gets a text, and he pulls out his phone:

Eileen: _Morning! You back from your run?_

Sam's smile gets even wider. He texts back: _Yep, just about to have breakfast._

Eileen: _Up for a date tonight? My treat ;-)_

Sam smiles again. We see him stand just a bit taller when he texts back. _Sure. Pick me up at 8?_

Eileen: _You got it, handsome._

Eileen: _How’s Dean doing?_

This gives Sam pause. He glances up from the phone, maybe hoping to see Dean? He looks guiltily at his cookie, then texts back: 

_-Not...great. Better, I think._

_-He left his room for almost an hour yesterday._

Eileen: _Hey, progress is progress. You’re doing great, sweetie._

_-Thanks_

_-See you at 8. Love you_

Eileen: _Love you, too_ 🤟😘

Sam pockets his phone and starts making his breakfast smoothie.

-Scene Change-

Sam, now dressed for the day, walks down the bunker hall with a grease-stained paper bag held in his arm. He comes to room 21. He pauses outside the door, just for a moment. Then he tentatively knocks. 

When he receives no answer he knocks louder.

With no answer still, he opens the door, careful to go slow (and not see anything that might scar him for life). 

“Dean? Hey. You up?”

Dean is seated on his bed, his back to the headboard, with his computer on his lap and his big headphones on. 

“Dean?”

Dean seems to finally notice Sam. He hits a button on his computer and slips a headphone off one ear. “Yeah?”

Sam holds up the bag, “I brought lunch.”

“Oh. Cool, thanks.” Dean slips the headphone back on.

“I was thinking of doing some more research,” Sam says before Dean can resume what he’s watching. “Found a book on other dimensions that might help. And— I _know_ we know that the Empty isn’t exactly a dimension, and that it… doesn’t factor into any cultural metaphysical belief systems that we know of, but I thought... maybe…”

He trails off. Dean doesn’t answer.

Sam sighs. “Dean, I know we hit a dead end with this—” we see Dean flinch “—but maybe we’ll find something. We just have to search for it. There’s always _something,_ right?”

Dean doesn’t answer. The silent _But not this time,_ hangs in the air between them.

“Dean— Look. I-I know I’ve been... giving you your space, been letting you process everything and all, but— Look, did something happen?”

Dean looks up sharply—

“—That I don’t know about?” Sam clarifies quickly. “It’s just— You seemed— almost _okay._ For a while there. And then after Jack took God’s power and we got everyone back and made sure everyone was okay, we got into this research and then— then you just… crashed.” 

Sam winces, maybe that was too much.

Dean doesn’t answer Sam. Just minutely grimaces and drops his gaze back down to his laptop screen.

Sam sighs. 

He shifts his weight to the other foot. “Can I… Can I ask you something?”

Dean says nothing.

“Why haven’t you asked Jack for help?” 

That gets a reaction. Dean cringes like something bit him. Then Dean sighs, wiping a hand over his face, “God’s power didn’t extend to the Empty—”

“But you haven’t even _asked.”_

Dean falls silent again.

“I mean, I haven’t either,” Sam continues, “but that’s because— well, when Jack was right in front of us, you didn’t ask him, and I wanted to defer to you on that. I mean… honestly... I kinda thought… I thought you had a plan.”

Dean twitches with a scowl, looking briefly off to the side. For a moment, it seems Sam isn’t going to get a response at all, but then Dean says, quietly, 

“After what I did to that kid?” 

Sam opens his mouth but Dean’s not done. 

“After all that shit I put him through... you think I could ask him to help me?”

Sam blinks at Dean, stunned for a moment. 

Then he’s just sad... 

Then confused. 

“What about us?” he asks.

“What?”

“What about me? And Jack? You couldn’t ask Jack to help _us_ get Cas back?”

Dean finally looks up properly. Sam’s lost him, he’s gone off the script in Dean’s head.

“You didn’t even think of that, did you?” Sam says, with what might be a hint of anger. “Dean, he’s my best friend, too. He’s Jack’s _father_ . He’s important to us, to _all_ of us! I mean, _Claire,_ did you even think of Claire?”

Dean sinks down in his spot, clearly dogged.

“Hey— Wait—” Sam says, pulling himself back. “I didn’t mean to—” Sam huffs. “Look. Dean. You know what the most important thing here really is?”

Sam waits for Dean to respond. He doesn’t.

Sam continues anyway: “What would _Cas_ want?”

Dean looks up at Sam again.

“Think about it, Dean. Would Cas want you here, drowning in beer and bad movies—”

“Hey—”

“—or would he want to come home?”

Dean stares at Sam, eyebrows knitted and eyes a little wide.

Sam silently gestures at Dean, his arms spread to say, _Well?_

Dean stares a beat longer. 

Then he looks away again, shaking his head. “I can’t face Jack, Sam—”

“You can’t face him for _Cas?_ No— You know what? You can face him for _him._ You _owe_ Jack that much. Because you know what? You _were_ an asshole. God— you said he wasn’t _family,_ Dean. You told our _kid_ that he wasn’t family, and whatever else happens, you fucking owe it to _him_ to fix that. To at least try.”

Sam waits again for Dean to respond. To at least fight. But he’s waiting for nothing.

Sam drops the bag of food on the surface nearest the door. “I’ll be in the library. Here’s your lunch,” he spits. And then shuts the door.

The camera stays in Dean’s room. We see him sit there on the bed for a long moment.

Then the camera cuts from Dean, and we see the laptop being set aside on the bed. Dean crosses in front of the shot, evidently headed for his dresser.

-Scene Change-

Dean is in the kitchen, dressed in his full flannel and jeans. We see him pace a bit, see him shift on his feet. Then he huffs a breath, shakes himself out, and closes his eyes in prayer.

The camera pans, and we see the back of another person now standing in front of Dean, having silently appeared. Dean looks up, and there’s worried anticipation on his face as he says, “...Hi, Jack.”

Jack smiles, and it’s the same sweet smile he’s always had, now just... tempered, by a new Calm about him. “Hi, Dean,” he says back, with a small Jack-Wave.

Dean huffs out another short breath. He bounces on his feet a little and bumps his fist a few times into a flat palm. “So. I suppose you’re… wondering why I called.”

“No,” Jack says, honest as ever.

Dean is taken a little aback. “Oh. Um... Fair enough.” He gives a nervous cough. “Well, I just— I just had some things that I should say. Things I wanna say. To you. If, um… if you wanna hear them. ‘Cause I’m not makin’ you sit here and listen to my crap, I just—”

“Yes, Dean,” Jack interrupts. “I want to hear them.”

Dean hangs there a moment before he drops his chin in a nod, bouncing his head to the side and taking a breath to build up his steam again. “Alright. Yeah.”

He looks up again and says, “Jack... I’m sorry.”

Jack waits, not impatient, just waiting.

“I was… I was a dick to you. From the day you were born I’ve treated you terribly and— and that was wrong. I did things I shouldn’t’ve, I said things I shouldn’t’ve, and it was just— all sorts of wrong, in so many ways. 

“At first it was— it was losing Cas. When you were born. And then afterwards it was losing Mom and then it was possibly losing _everything—_ But all of it, _all_ of what I did was wrong. It was just me _stupidly_ lashing out and _you_ didn’t deserve any of it. You— have _always_ been a good kid and hell, even if you weren’t, you didn’t deserve the crap I did.” Dean takes a breath. “I also—” His throat catches. “—I need you to know that I— _really—_ did not mean what I said. I did not mean it when I said you— When I said—”

“When you said I wasn’t family,” Jack says, helpfully. 

Dean’s eyes shut, pained. “Yeah. That. Jack, I— I said that because— because I had to convince myself it was fine. To use you like that. To _use_ you as a weapon against Chuck. But you’re— you’re not a tool, Jack, you’re _not_ a blunt little instrument. You’re— You’re our kid. And you’re— you’re _my_ kid. Even if you’re God now, you’re my kid. You are our family. And— And we love you. I love you, and I’m— I am so sorry. For everything.”

Jack’s smile returns, though it never fully left. “I know,” he says.

“You… know?”

“Yes. I know Everything now. It’s part of my role.”

Dean blinks. “Oh.”

“So I know you needed to say that.” Jack’s smile softens, “And thank you, Dean. For saying it.”

Dean releases a shaky breath. “Well, ah… You’re welcome.”

“And I should say something, too,” Jack says. “I forgive you. Not— because you told me why, I already Knew why, and honestly, the why doesn’t actually matter at all, but... because you mean it. And because you’re going to do better in the future.”

“I will. I _will,_ Jack, I’m gonna—”

“I know.”

“...Right.” Dean gives a small chuckle. “Right, you do,” he says, smiling proudly.

There’s a longer pause here, like Jack is waiting again. 

“I believe now you have something you wanted to ask me?” says Jack.

“Oh— No, Jack, I didn’t apologize just to—”

“I know.”

Dean lets out another breath, nodding. “Right.” He waves a half-salutary hand. “Right, _yes._ You do.”

“But... I would like you to ask me,” says Jack. “I’ve kind of been waiting.”

 _“Oh..._ Um. Okay.” Dean stands a little taller. “Ah— _Jack._ Uh... Can your new, fancy God power reach the Empty?”

“It can’t,” says Jack, and the hope rushes out of Dean. He shuts his eyes and drops his head, letting his hand fall against his thigh.

“But…” Jack smiles wide, “I can help.”

Dean looks up again, and it’s like the rising of a new sun.

  
  


## -Title Sequence- 

  
  


We return to the bunker, where Sam, Dean, and Jack are gathered in the library. The air is charged and excited, full of possibility. 

“So you can’t directly pull Cas back from the Empty,” Sam says to Jack, “but you seem to have an idea of what will.”

“I do,” says Jack. 

They wait a beat before Dean rolls a hand, “Okay, bud, we aren’t all omniscient here, you’re gonna have to elaborate.”

“There was a spell, that you used to get into the Apocalypse World to rescue me and Mary and our friends.”

“Right, we used it to cross dimensions,” says Sam, “but the Empty isn’t one of the multiverse dimensions.”

“It’s not. But in the notes you retrieved from Rowena’s apartment there is the information needed for a modification, one that will allow it to take you to the Empty.”

“So we can send someone in?” says Dean.

“Yes.”

“Yeah… I could see that…” says Sam, thinking it through. “If I changed the wording... probably called upon the residual power it’s left behind on Earth…” He shakes his head. “But that spell had specific, powerful ingredients. We still have some Fruit from the Tree of Life, and the Seal of Solomon, but we used up all of our Blood of a Most Holy Man last time and—”

“Don’t worry.” Jack reaches out into the air, and when he opens his palm there is a vial in it. He looks back up to Sam and Dean. “Father Lucca said to give you his kindest regards.”

 _“Hell,_ kid, where have you been all our lives,” says Dean.

“I didn’t exist for most of them.”

“That’s great, Jack,” says Sam with a smile both proud and hedging, “but we also need the grace of an Archangel, and, well, after Michael… there aren’t any left.”

“That’s true. But it’s okay.” Jack waves his other hand— 

And Adam appears next to their table.

“Oh,” says Dean. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” says Adam.

“Adam prayed a while ago,” says Jack, “so I went to him. We talked.”

“Okay...” says Dean. “And it’s, ah… just you in there?”

“Yeah,” says Adam. “Just me.”

“Then how—? Oh!” Sam hops with excitement. “Right, y-you were the vessel of an angel, so you still have Michael’s grace in you!”

“The amount that we can safely extract from both Adam and Dean will be enough for the spell,” says Jack.

Dean looks over at Adam. “And you’re okay with that?”

“More than,” says Adam. “I want him back just as much as you want your friend back. I, um… I miss him. A lot.”

Dean and Adam meet each other’s eyes, exchanging a look of understanding. 

“Alright!” Dean claps his hands and rubs them together. “So. How do we pull this off? What’s the plan, boss?” He turns to Sam.

Sam does a double take. “What, me?”

“Yeah, man, what do you need from us?”

Sam falters. “You’re not… taking charge of this?”

“Hey, you point me at somethin’ that needs shooting or a burger that needs cookin’ and I’m your man, but the big operations, the movin’ and shakin’? That’s where you _shine,_ Sammy. Has been for a long time.”

“You’re also the one with the necessary knowledge and expertise to properly implement this spell,” Jack says when Sam still looks unsure.

“Yeah, c’mon, Chief!” says Dean. “It’s your rodeo! What’re our marching orders?”

Sam looks around at their expectant faces. He seems to draw confidence from them, pulling himself up a little taller. “Well... alright then!” he says, beginning to smile. “Dean, we’ll need chalk, I’m probably going to need a spell circle over there. Jack? Do you know where the grace-extractor—”

“Yes.”

“Ah— Right. Go get it, please. I’ll just get the notes and the other ingredients from storage and— and we’ll do this!” He gives a short laugh and leaves quickly with a little hop.

Dean watches him go, then goes over to one of the cabinets against the walls of the library, and pulls out a box of chalk. We see Jack pull the extraction-syringe out of the air as he did the vial of blood. 

Setting the chalk on the library table, Dean looks over at Adam again. “You know this might be a one-ticket deal, right? We might only get one shot and we might only get one ride out.”

“I know. As long as you try,” says Adam.

Dean nods, looking at his half-brother with a little more pride and respect than we’ve ever seen before. 

“Well, alright then,” Dean says, and starts rolling up his sleeve.

### -Commercial Break-

The camera opens on Dean’s arm, the grace-extracting syringe is just being pulled out, now full of glowing, blue-white mist.

 _“Agh,”_ Dean groans. _“Damn,_ that stings.”

Adam is rubbing his own arm, having already given his grace. Jack takes the syringe over to Sam, who has a spell bowl out and is already working on the modified spell.

Dean takes this moment to talk to Adam again.

“You know, um…” he starts, “stuff happened while you were gone. Michael helped us a little, trying to defeat Chuck—”

“But then he turned on you, warning God of your plan,” says Adam. He looks over at Dean. “Jack told me.” 

“‘Course he did,” Dean says with a proud smirk. But it fades. “And that... doesn’t bother you?”

“Do any of Castiel’s betrayals stop you from wanting him back?”

Dean’s eyes widen for a moment and he pulls back with a nod. “Touché, man.”

“Besides, I know exactly why he’d do that,” says Adam. “Lost and alone... he was desperate. He panicked, and he did whatever he could to fix it. He just chose wrong. I could never fault him for that.” Adam smiles a little. “Not for long, anyway.”

Dean nods with a small, knowing smile. 

Dean then makes his way over to the table. “How’s it goin’, Sammy?”

“Good…” says Sam, and he pours the crushed Fruit of Life into the bowl. “Now I just need…” he checks his notes, “something that’s been to the Empty.”

Jack approaches, and holds his wrist over the bowl. He draws his own finger across his skin, and a small cut appears. They all watch as he bleeds into the bowl, then wipes his finger across the cut again, healing it as he goes. 

Sam smiles, “Thanks, Jack.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Okay.” Sam clears his throat. He holds one hand out over the bowl, and begins the incantation. It’s Enochian, and it sounds difficult, but Sam recites it perfectly, and on the last words he directs his other hand out, and releases a dark-golden light out into the room.

There’s a flash, and a vertical portal appears before them. It’s smoother than the previous portals, darker in color, less crackly and more… liquid.

 _“Yahtzee!”_ Dean crows. “How long do we have?”

“The portal will hold as long as you need,” says Jack. “I will hold it.”

“Awesome,” says Dean. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Dean starts walking to the portal, but pauses when he sees he’s the only one who moved. 

“You coming?” he asks Sam impatiently, though he also looks at Adam.

“I need to be here if something goes wrong,” says Sam. “I’ll be here on this side, supporting both of you.”

“Fine. Sap.”

Sam frowns at him.

Dean glances at Adam.

“And I’m the spare,” Adam shrugs.

“Aw, Adam, dude, you’re not—”

“I _know,”_ Adam says with a smirk. “It was a joke.”

“Oh. ...Alright.” Dean straightens up, squaring his shoulders. “Well, then. Here goes nothin’.”

He starts toward the portal, but before he can reach it— 

“Hey,” says Sam, stopping Dean in his tracks.

“What?” Dean asks, concern striking his face.

“Nothing, just—” Sam releases a sigh. “Make sure you come back, okay?

Dean smiles wide, flashing his teeth at Sam. “When have I ever not?”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Whatever, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam frowns even deeper, though it's definitely tempered by love. As Dean's smile widens ever-so-slightly, he spins on his heel, and steps through the portal.

### -Commercial Break-

Light flashes across the screen, and we see Dean step forward from the portal. The camera pulls back from him, further, and further, and we see that he is completely surrounded by dark, by nothing.

He’s in the Empty.

“Ohh boy...” says Dean, looking around him. He takes a cautious step forward, then another, his steps ringing loud and solitary on whatever not-ground he’s walking on. 

“So this is where you’ve been…” says Dean. “Gotta say, Cas, it’s almost familiar.”

“And just how would you know?” says a voice to his right. Dean spins, and finds standing a few feet from him—

“Gabriel?”

“The one and only,” Gabriel preens. He’s wearing the outfit that he died in, a small tear in the stomach of his shirts where he took that blade to the gut. (Not that Dean registers this, but we do, it’s a nice touch of detail.)

 _“You_ aren’t supposed to be here,” says Gabriel. “This place isn’t a stop on your line.”

“Who do you think you’re talkin' to, Gabriel?” says Dean.

“Right. _Winchesters._ Never did follow the script, did you?”

“And you like it that way. But, hey, I’m not here to chat—”

“You’re here for Cas. We know.”

“'We'? 'Know'?”

“Oh, puh- _lease._ I don’t have to be an archangel to see what’s right in front of me.” He gives Dean a _large,_ sarcastic, up-and-down. “And yes, _‘we’.”_

There’s movement from behind Dean, and he turns in place to see rows upon rows of people. We see every angel and demon we can get back, from Uriel to Balthazar, Samandriel to Bartholomew, Abbadon and Meg all the way to Demon #3, even Metatron, they’re all here, facing Dean.

But someone is definitely missing.

“So where’s Cas?” Dean asks, still scanning the crowd.

“Oh, he’s here. He’s just not _here,”_ says a voice in the crowd. Dean turns to it, and once again finds a familiar face.

“Crowley?”

“In the smoke,” says Crowley with a little dip of his head. “Figures. _We_ all die and it’s ‘too bad, so sad’, but Feathers kicks it and you have to go breaking all the known rules of the universe just to get him back.”

“Well— shit— I mean, we didn’t have Jack like this before and—”

“I don’t need an explanation, Dean. Don’t even want one.”

“I do!” shouts a voice in the crowd.

“No one asked you, Balthazar!” Gabriel shouts back.

“I _helped_ them! I died a stupid death!”

“We all died stupid deaths, Balthazar, you’re not special!”

 _“Hey!”_ barks Dean. “Focus, people, where the hell is Cas?”

 _“Typical,”_ Crowley rolls his eyes. He glances around Dean to Gabriel, “Was it just as bad after I left?”

 _“Oh yah._ Worse,” answers Gabriel.

“Alright,” says Dean, “you assholes better start giving me some straight answers here, or _so help me—”_

“What? You’ll kill us?” Gabriel deadpans.

Crowley snorts.

Dean glares at Gabriel.

 _“Bo-hoy,_ you’re _so_ easy!” Gabriel laughs. “Alright, alright, calm down, Dean-o. The thing is—”

“Are you going to get us out of here?”

Dean looks around at the new voice, and finds Ruby. 

Dean gives her a particularly harsh glare. “I came for Cas.”

“So? What about the rest of us? Are you just going to leave us here?”

“Yeah, uh... ya see—”

 _“Do you know what it’s like here?_ Do you know what we experience, every moment, from the _second_ we’re thrown here? Agony. _Emptiness._ Nothing but your doubts and regrets on repeat _for all of time._ And there’s no escaping it! No matter what you do, even now that we’re awake, no matter what we do it never goes away!”

“Look, if you think I’m going to release every demon ever killed back onto Earth—”

“And angels!”

“Balthazar—!” Dean stops himself. “You know, the portal’s _right_ over there. Maybe, you all could go over _there_ and—”

“You think we didn’t try that the moment you stepped away from it?” comes another voice. Dean turns and sees Anna. He has a moment of remembrance when he sees her but Anna’s got no time for that. “It wouldn’t let us through. _Something_ wouldn’t.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean holds up a hand at the crowd around him. “Look, honestly? I don’t think I can do shit. I don’t even fully know if I can get _Cas_ out yet. But I’m here for _him._ And if this works, maybe I can work something out for you guys from the other side. But first you’ve got to tell me—”

 _“That’s not good enough!”_ screams Ruby, and she takes a step forward. “Screw it, you’re still a meat-suit, a _living_ meat-suit. I’ll just walk you out of here myself!”

She leaps at Dean, seeming ready to pry him apart with her bare hands, but before Dean can even properly react she’s knocked from the air, tackled by another body. 

They get up, and Dean can see who helped him.

“...Dad?” 

The image of Dean’s father stands above him, but it’s his father only as he’s seen him twice before, young, full of life, and ready to leap at anything that threatens his family.

Dean blinks, shaking his head, and now it’s Adam before him, not John. 

“Tell him where Castiel is,” Michael says without turning around. He and Ruby glare at each other, daring each other to make a move.

“What about—” Gabriel starts.

“Lucifer is occupied with memories of his Rebellion,” says Michael, “but you don’t have much time.”

“Okay, speed-run then.” Gabriel turns back to Dean. “The thing that runs this place, the thing that _is_ this place? It _hates,_ and I mean _haaates,_ Cassy. When he got back, the first thing it did was snatch him up and whisk him off in a glob of goo.”

“So where _is he?”_ Dean growls.

“No such thing as ‘where’ here, but don’t worry, you don’t need to understand that. Just come with me, if you want to live.” Gabriel holds out his hand. Dean glances down at it. “Oh, what, _now_ you’re uncomfortable touching a dude? Come on, pretty-boy, unless you wanna be torn apart by Lucifer. And probably all of these guys, too, by the looks of it.”

Dean takes Gabriel’s hand, and in a blink the crowd is gone. 

“Where—?”

“Wrong question,” says Gabriel. “But _there.”_

He points, and Dean turns to see a large sphere. It’s black, shining with goo, and rippling like the surface of an oil slick.

“That’s where Cas is?” Dean asks.

“Yep. At least, probably. We can’t get in, see. None of us can. But you,” Gabriel looks over at Dean, “it’s worth a shot.”

Dean’s gaze moves all over the ball of goo. It looks awful, sinister. 

Then without a second more hesitation, he walks up to it and steps through.

“Good luck,” says Gabriel. And the camera cuts.

### -Commercial Break-

Dean… isn’t in the Empty anymore.

He’s… at Lisa’s house. 

He’s at Lisa’s house... and he’s watching… himself… rake leaves.

“Just not your day, is it?”

Dean spins, and Crowley is standing behind him. _“Crowley?_ God damn it, what kind of shit have you pulled this ti—”

“I want to help you help me help ourselves.”

“You want to wha—?”

“I want to discuss a simple business transaction. That’s all.”

“Are— Are you _kidding_ me? Are you—? _Ohhh-_ kay, I do _not_ have time for one of your bullshit dea—!”

“But that’s it, isn’t it? It’s all of it. It’s the souls. It all comes down to the souls in the end, doesn’t it?”

Dean pulls back, giving Crowley a quizzical look. He doesn’t say anything this time, yet Crowley just continues on.

“I’m talking about Raphael’s head on a pike. I’m talking about happy endings for all of us, with... all... possible... entendres intended. Come on. Just a chat.”

Dean’s confounded look deepens. He turns back to himself raking leaves, and back again to the Demon King— and he sags.

 _“Ah,_ _Cas…”_ he murmurs to himself, “you could have just asked. Dammit, man, I would have helped you—”

The world around him shifts and Dean is thrown. When he regains his bearings, he finds he's in a whole new place now, a dungeon or a laboratory or—

“Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry. Now let’s just defuse you, okay?”

Dean looks over and sees himself again, but this time he’s addressing himself. He’s pleading, with his hands out, and the other him is looking at him with… such fear and terror. And concern.

“You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe. So, before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.”

We can see on our Dean’s face that he remembers this, and it hurts him to see it again. The past-Dean’s line of “No, Cas, it’s— it-it’s scrambling your brain” is delivered, muted behind this shot on current-Dean.

“Listen to me. Listen,” past-Dean continues, “I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you… Please, I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too. You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas. Get rid of it before it kills us all.”

“But you didn’t, Cas,” our current Dean says under his breath. “Dammit, Cas, you made me lose you anyway.”

Dean is thrown again. When he regains his balance this time, he finds himself in a convenience store, the one in Lawrence. That kid who used to work the register is standing across the check-out counter from him. Dean looks down and sees a shopping basket between them. It has jerky, and beer, and toilet paper and… Dean’s porn mag? 

“Geez, the only thing missing is pie,” Dean says to himself.

“I think we’re out,” the kid says.

Suddenly, Dean reaches out and _grabs_ the poor kid by the collar, dragging him clear across the counter to his face, it's as much of a surprise to Dean as it is to the kid. 

“Put the virgin down, Castiel.”

Dean turns from the scared kid, and sees Metatron standing a short distance off.

“We need to talk,” Metatron says.

Then Dean is thrown again and he’s sitting across from Metatron in a café, 

“See our waitress?” Metatron says. “She’s the first trial. Got to cut her heart out.”

Dean’s head swivels. “Some woman? No, Cas, you wouldn't kill some innocent—”

“No she isn’t,” says Metatron. “She’s a Nephilim, an abomination.”

Dean whips back to Metatron. “You know, I always hated you the most.”

“It’s not. There’s only one on Earth, and you’re looking at it,” Metatron continues, oblivious to Dean.

“She’s innocent!” Dean snaps.

“Yes she is. I told you it wasn’t gonna be easy. But if you want to do this, Castiel, if you _really_ want to do this, you got to ask yourself what’s more important… her life? Or your family?”

Dean draws back in his seat, his expression falls with shock, understanding, and pain. “Oh, Cas…” 

Then things go haywire, Dean is being thrown, rapid-fire, from memory to memory. He’s stabbing that woman in the neck, he’s threatening Kevin, he doesn’t believe Naomi, he doesn’t stay to help Dean with Sam in the church, he’s strapped to a chair and Metatron is slicing his throat, he’s back on Earth, and above him, all above him is fire, fire streaking down from the clouds because hundreds, thousands of angels are falling, and burning, and taking humans for vessels—

And he is taking their lives, he’s attacking them, hurting them, _killing them,_ killing the angels, one after the other, after the other, after the other— he kills Balthazar, he kills Duma, he kills Ishim, he kills Bartholomew, he kills Alfie—

He kills Dean.

Our Dean stops, swaying in place, finally allowed a moment to catch his breath. 

But what he finds…

There’s… him. Him, Dean, his body, thousands of him, strewn across a floor without an end. His body, mangled and bloody and dead, dead, _dead—_

“No hesitation. Quick. Brutal... Everything’s back in order.”

Dean turns and sees the angel Naomi beside him, watching him. He looks back out, at the sea of dead Deans.

“Finally,” Naomi says. “You’re ready.”

Dean’s hand rises of its own accord, and when he looks down he sees a new Dean now clutched in his fist. This Dean is already bloodied, swaying on his knees. They’re in a cavern now. A crypt. That crypt.

“End this, Castiel!” says Naomi.

Dean’s fist falls, striking with a sickening crunch. 

“Cas…” says the bloodied Dean, “This isn’t you. This isn’t you.” 

Dean raises his fist again, but the bloodied Dean just looks up at him, one eye swollen shut, gripping him tightly and pleading, “Cas—”

Our Dean strikes him again, but the Dean on his knees won’t give up, won’t pull back or try to escape him. He only grips his sleeve even tighter and pleads, “Cas, I know you’re in there...”

And our Dean is visibly fighting, he’s trying to escape whatever has a hold on him, but he can’t move, he can't move.

“I know you can hear me,” the bloodied Dean says. “Cas… It’s me.”

Our Dean fights harder, struggling, physically struggling to stop this, to free himself from this.

“We’re family. We need you.”

Our Dean screams, straining to escape, struggling as hard as he can to get out— 

“Why do you fight it?” says Naomi’s voice. But the voice is different now, sneering where before it was shouting. “Why do you fight the truth, Castiel?”

Our Dean is panting, frozen, suspended in this moment, unable to move.

“Why do you fight what you know? That you are nothing but a failure, a _danger_ to those around you.” 

_“No…”_ Dean strains, but god, it’s so hard to move…

“You destroy your families— over and over, piece by piece— and they _hate_ you for it. They _hate_ you, no matter what you do, Castiel. There is no point in fighting! You are _nothing,_ Castiel.”

 _“No…”_ Dean whines, his head dropping forward.

“So why do you fight me? Why do you _try?_ I told you, Castiel, there is nothing for you back there. No one _cares_. No one gives a single, _teensy, tiny_ ounce about you. You were a soldier, you were a _tool,_ and you were _useless._ Useless, _useless,_ USELESS, _USELESS—!”_

 _“NO!”_ Dean screams, and like a spell being broken he suddenly falls from the power over him. He topples to the floor of the crypt, winded and panting. He’s catching his breath, shakily pushing himself up when— 

“...Dean?”

Dean snaps his head around and there, slowly sitting up from the ground,

Is Cas.

“Dean... is that… are you—?”

Dean launches himself at Cas, grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him in for a crushing, desperate hug. One hand goes to the back of Cas’s head, cradling it for a moment before he seems to remember himself and pulls the hand back down. 

“Yeah— Yeah, it’s me, Cas,” Dean says, throat tight as he pulls back. His hands stay on Cas’s shoulders as they face each other on their knees, gripping him tightly, like he’ll never let go again. “It’s me, buddy, I swear, it’s really me.”

“Yes, I… I can see…” Cas is looking all over Dean, but particularly at his core. “You’re… brighter than the last time I saw you.”

“Brighter?”

Cas looks up at Dean’s face, and seems to read Dean’s confusion. “You’re a soul here, Dean, pure life. I haven’t seen you like this since… well since Hell.” Cas looks over Dean again, still lingering at the center. “The Empty never gets your soul right...” he says, almost to himself, “it always tarnishes you too much…”

“God, Cas, how long have you been fighting this?”

“Twelve years, two months, and—” Cas looks up. “Oh, the Empty? That’s a near-nonsensical question. Perhaps a day, perhaps for my entire existence.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean looks pained, “not anymore. Come on, buddy, we’re getting you out of here.”

Dean shifts to pull Castiel up with him to stand, but Cas doesn’t move.

“Cas…?”

“There is no leaving for me, Dean,” Cas says. “There’s no… there’s no point.”

“No _point?”_ Dean nearly shouts.

“I don’t belong out there…” Cas says. “I was a menace, a danger, everything I touched turned to ash in my fingers—”

“Hey-hey-hey, no. No, man, that’s the fuckin’ Empty talking, okay?” Dean dips down into Cas’s line of sight. “None of that crap it says is true, not a goddamn word. And you _know_ that.”

“Isn’t it?” says Cas, managing to avert his gaze from Dean. “What did I ever do right on Earth? What good was I?”

“Oh, I dunno, saving the freakin’ world?”

“That was you. And Sam.”

 _“And_ you! Fuck— Alright— What about helping Claire?”

“I tore her family apart in the first place—”

“What about Jack? You stopped even Sam and me from killing Jack.”

“I couldn’t protect Jack, I could never protect Jack—”

“What about Sam? You’ve saved his keister more times than I can count!”

“I burned his Wall…” Cas whines, his voice thinning, “I couldn’t stop Lucifer from getting him, I pulled his body from Hell without his _soul,_ I burned down his _Wall—”_

“Well, what about me!” Dean finally shouts. “What about my sorry ass, _huh?”_

This seems to cause Cas the greatest pain of all. “I _hurt_ you! All I do is _hurt_ you, and _fail_ you, and _hurt_ you and _fail,_ over and over and—!”

 _“No.”_ Dean’s hands move up to Cas’s face, forcing him to look Dean in the eyes. “That. Is not. True.”

“Dean…”

“You—! Cas, you _saved_ me. I mean, capital-S, all-the-implications, _Saved_ me. You pulled my worthless ass out of Hell and all these years you've—”

“You are _not_ worthless—”

“I know, Cas, I heard you. I heard you, man, I did.” One of Dean’s hands shifts to cradle Cas’s cheek but he moves it back just as fast, moves his hands back to Cas's shoulders. “I heard you, and now you gotta hear me, okay? You gotta hear me— you gotta hear me when I tell you— Cas, how _good_ you are! How great and _perfect_ and— Cas, you taught me to have _faith._ Me! I don’t have faith in anythin’, Cas, but I got faith in you. I got faith that no matter what— no matter _what_ — you’ll be there, you'll come back, ready to help me and Sam with whatever bullshit scheme we’ve thought up this time, ready to save people who need saving, ready to make the choice you think is right!” 

“The wrong choice. Always the wrong—”

“You gotta hear me when I tell you that you’re _not_ useless,” Dean plows on, “you are amazing, damn it. You’re— I mean you're _awesome,_ Cas. You in action has got to be the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen in my life. But Cas, that doesn’t even matter! _Hey—_ Cas, that doesn’t even _matter._ Because that’s not you! That’s not what makes you so _special,_ Cas! Just— _you._ You’re what makes you so amazing!”

“That’s just circular logic, Dea—”

“ _Cas,”_ Dean shakes Cas to refocus him. “ _Listen_ to me! You gotta— Cas, I need you to hear me. I need you to _hear_ me when I tell you— how much I admire you. How much I _wish_ I were as good and righteous as you. How much I wish I could be a _fraction_ as pure and good as you. Cas— Cas, I— Cas, you need to hear how— how our family is _broken_ and _empty_ without you, man, how much we _miss_ you! _Sam_ misses you, _Jack_ misses you, all of us miss you! And we _want_ you back home! We want you back home so bad that we threw my ass _outside the damn universe_ to bring you back ourselves!”

Cas slowly looks up at Dean, finally seeming to see him, to really be hearing him.

“Our lives are _crap_ without you, our home is empty without you, do you hear me, Cas? Do you understand? You gotta hear me, man, you go- _otta—”_ Dean swallows around the catch in his throat, tears are streaming down his face. “You gotta hear me. You gotta hear me when I tell you how _important_ you are to us! How much we all love you! You gotta hear me— Please, you gotta hear me when— when I— when I tell you _I_ love you.”

Cas’s eyes fly wide open.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” Dean says, choking out the words. “I thought— Thought I couldn’t hide it any worse. I love you, too, asshole. I don’t even know how long, but I love you— I love you so much it _hurts,_ Castiel. You damned, _perfect,_ beautiful thing, I love you more than I’ve _ever_ loved anyone this way before, so much that it scares the crap out of me. I— I can’t _function_ when you’re gone, man, I can’t _live,_ when you’re gone. You leave or you disappear or get taken and I’ve got _nothing,_ like my heart’s been ripped outta my goddamned chest.”

“Dean…”

“I’m already yours, dumbass,” Dean says through a wet smile. One hand moves up to cradle Cas's neck. “ _‘The one thing you can’t have—’_ I’m already yours! Whatever way that means to you— Cas— I’m already yours.”

Cas’s hand slowly rises, shaking slightly, to cover Dean’s, like he has to touch it to believe it's there. He stares at Dean, his eyes darting across Dean’s face.

“What...” Cas asks, barely above a whisper, “What do you mean... ‘whatever way that means to me’?”

“Whatever you want. Whatever you don’t,” Dean says, knowing that’s not very helpful but he’s running out of steam.

“Can it... Can it mean...?” Cas’s eyes flick down to Dean’s lips.

A shaky smile of utter joy breaks out over Dean's face. _“Yes,_ fuck, yes, Ca—”

Cas crashes into Dean, nearly toppling him over with the force of this kiss. His hands fly up to cradle Dean's face, desperately, carefully, not unlike the way Dean has held him so many times over the years. And Dean gives as good as he gets, kissing Cas back with all the fever and desperation of years of dreaming. They cling to each other, hands grasping as if to lifeboats on the sea. Dean’s hand returns to the back of Cas’s head, Cas’s hand goes to Dean’s shoulder—

_“NOOO!”_

The scream tears through the air around them and they flinch apart, still clinging to each other but curling over in pain. The bubble of goo bursts, the crypt dissolving in a shower of muck but they never let go of each other.

 _“You cannot have him!”_ the voice screeches, and god, does that sound familiar.

They look up and see the image of Chuck, standing above them where they’re still huddled on their knees.

“You’re gone! We defeated you!” says Dean.

“What?” asks Cas.

“Oh. Yeah, Chuck’s gone. I mean, he’s human now, but, uh— Jack did it. Oh and Jack’s God now, by the way.”

“Jack is...?”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna overwhelm you with too much—”

“I am not _Chuck_ and you know it!” The visage of Chuck ripples, showing the black goo of the Empty underneath. “You can’t have him! He is _mine!_ He belongs to _me!”_

“Well, I’m taking him back, so suck on that, clingy,” says Dean.

“You will not! You can not! He is _mine!_ He will stay here for all of eternity—!”

“Yeah, no. He’s ours. He’s— He’s mine,” says Dean. Cas snaps his gaze to Dean, surprised but with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. Dean sees this and is visibly boosted by the confirmation, “And there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

 _“You will not take him!_ He is _mine_ to kick, _mine_ to torture, _mine_ to lie to! We had a Deal—!”

“Yeah, well, the Deal’s off!”

“You don’t— _hahh—_ You don’t just _break_ a deal with _me,_ boy. He is mine, he will _always_ be _mine—”_

“Maybe so,” Cas says, and Dean’s head snaps around toward him. “But I will fight you. I will fight you for all of time—”

“Oh, I fell for that already,” the Empty jeers, smile wide and manic. “I— _fell—_ for that one! But it didn’t help! It didn’t bring back the _sleep!”_

“The sleep—?” Dean asks.

 _“You_ will not be going anywhere, because _you_ woke me up! _YOU_ did this to me! _YOU_ woke me UP, and then your wretched son made it _loud!_ Woke them ALL up! Woke them ALL. UP. and now they talk and they _talk_ and they TALK _and they TALK_ and _now YOU will SUFFER—!”_

“We can make it quiet again!” Dean bursts.

The Empty stops, the visage of Chuck freezing in place. “You can what?”

“We can make it quiet again,” Dean says. “And— And it’s easy! _All_ you gotta do is... is send them back.”

The Empty unfreezes, frowning deeply. “What.”

“Send all those assholes back to us! Make _us_ deal with it! Then you’re all alone and everything— everything goes back to perfect, peace and quiet.”

Cas squeezes Dean's arm, “Dean, the demons are here, too—” 

“Not even they deserve this,” Dean says, gesturing around. “Besides, Super Kid, remember? We’ll be fine.”

The Empty stares at them, clearly deep in thought. “You want me… to simply… send them all away.”

“Sure, why not? Heaven, Hell, Earth, who cares as long as you’re all alone again?”

The Empty nods slightly, “It _has_ been… a very long time, since I was truly alone. Alone is the best sleep, it always was...”

“Oh— _Totally,”_ Dean agrees with the Empty while shaking his head vigorously at Cas. 

The Empty continues to stare, but it’s clearly not looking at them anymore, “They will always be tied to me… nothing I can do about that…”

“Yeah, well, maybe there’s something we can do on our end,” says Dean. “I can promise we won’t stop until we figure it out.”

Still the Empty stares. It thinks. For a long time... Then, so suddenly that it makes Cas and Dean jump, it snaps its head up. 

“Deal. But you’re taking _all_ of them. _Especially_ Loud Mouth.”

The camera quick-pans and we see Gabriel off to the side.

“The hell did _I_ do?”

Dean pulls Cas in for a victorious side-hug, kissing his temple in his joy.

“Now, get out!” The Empty raises a hand, and Dean grips Castiel tighter. “And let. Me. _Sleep.”_

On ‘sleep’ we hear a snap, loud and echoing, the sound truly final.

### -Commercial Break-

Dean slowly comes to. He is laying on the floor. A solid floor, made of wood planks.

“Dean!”

That’s Sam’s shout, and now Sam is running up to him, shaking him awake. “Dean! Dean! Are you okay? Dean!”

Dean sits up slowly, groaning and moving carefully like he's sore. He tightens his one hand, grasping like he's expecting to be holding something—

He sits bolt upright, looking around frantically, “Cas? _Cas!”_

“Dean?”

Dean spins around so fast it’s a wonder his neck doesn’t snap. Behind him, being helped up to his feet by Jack, is Cas, still covered in residual black goo, just like Dean is, but right there, in that big, dumb trenchcoat with that crazy dark hair and that perfect blue tie, is Cas.

“Hello, Dean,” he says, and Dean’s heart visibly melts in his eyes.

Dean scrambles to his feet, Sam helping him up. Once there, though, still staring at Cas, he seems to throw on the breaks. He moves slowly to stand on his own. Sam just as gingerly steps back, making sure Dean is fine before he goes. Dean stares at Cas, who is likewise carefully stepping away from Jack, and is staring right back at Dean. 

“Are you—?” Dean almost takes a step forward, then seems to catch himself. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I— I seem to be physically fine. You?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

They continue to stare at each other. Long enough that someone else is probably about to say something. But then Cas says,

“Did that— Did that really happen?”

Dean lets out a nervous chuckle. “I mean— You tell me. I’m pretty sure it did.”

Cas nods, but he’s still holding himself back. 

“And did… did you mean it?”

Dean’s heart breaks all over again. “Every word.”

“So you… you all… you missed me?” he asks, turning to Sam and Jack.

“Wha— Of course we did!” bursts Sam. “Cas, we haven’t stopped looking for a way to find you since you vanished!”

“I bent the rules of reality to get you back,” Jack says proudly.

“Oh,” says Cas.

“Cas… you know how much we care about you, right?” Sam asks. He shoots a glance toward Dean, and the look on Dean’s face is his answer. Sam is horrified. “Cas— You’re our _family._ You’re my best friend, my _brother_ . And I love you! We all— we love you _so much._ You mean the world to us, man.”

Cas looks to Jack. 

“He means that,” says Jack. “And I Know you know I love you. Like a lot. A _lot,_ a lot.”

“God-Kid, he knows everything now,” says Dean.

“...Oh,” says Cas.

“And, uh—” They all turn, and see Adam raising a hand in an awkward wave. “—I mean, I only know you through Michael, but you seem pretty cool, all things considered.”

Cas looks around at all of them, tears welling in his eyes, but he is standing a little taller, his eyes shining a little brighter. 

His gaze lands back on Dean, where it pauses, and some of the tenseness comes back into Cas’s body. 

“And you…?” he asks, his voice smaller than before. “Did you… mean it?”

“Did _I_ mean it?” Dean asks, a little hurt and offense in his voice.

“Did you… Did you just say it or…?” Cas's throat bobs. “Was it real?” he all but whispers.

“Cas…” Dean’s face falls, devastated. Then next thing anyone knows, he’s striding forward, closing the gap between them. Hope sparks in Cas’s eyes and then Dean takes him into his arms and he's kissing him, kissing him, kissing him like there's going to be no tomorrow.

A lightbulb on the nearest table shatters. Everyone jumps but Dean and Cas.

“I meant. _All_ of it,” Dean says when he pulls back, his forehead resting against Cas’s. “And I mean this—” he kisses Cas again, “and this—” he kisses Cas again, “and this— and this— and this—”

Cas actually smiles under his little onslaught, pulling back just enough to laugh. 

“I love you, Cas, and I’ll tell you every hour of every goddamn day until you believe me.”

“I would like that,” Cas says. “I love you, too, Dean.”

Dean sighs happily, his smile too big to contain. “Don’t think that’ll ever get old.”

And Cas shifts forward and kisses him again, and Dean kisses back, and it’s more smile than kiss, but really, who’s keeping track? And if maybe a few hands begin to wander...

Off to the side, Sam sighs and raises his hand to cover Jack’s eyes, “Aaaalright.”

“I Know what they’re doing,” Jack says.

“Yeah, well, stop knowing,” says Dean, and resumes kissing Cas.

Jack frowns deeply behind Sam’s hand. “...I don’t think I can do that.”

The camera shot opens up, and Gabriel is standing beside Sam. “What’re we watchin’?”

 _“Holy—!”_ Sam jumps a foot in the air, nearly knocking into Jack, his hand automatically going for his gun. His shout breaks Dean and Cas apart abruptly. _“Gabriel?”_

“Why is everyone so surprised to see me?” Gabriel asks. “Yeah, it’s me. Thought I’d come down and give my thanks, and apparently my congratulations to the happy couple. _Finally.”_ He shoots Dean and Cas an appreciative look. “Thanks for waiting to kiss until after you got back, by the way, I totally won the betting pool. Can’t wait to tell Balthazar, his money was on a month from now.”

“That wasn’t our first kiss,” says Cas.

“What!” Gabriel bursts. _“Aw, dammit,_ when? Was it back in the Empty? Aw, _man,_ don’t tell me I lost to _Meg!”_

“Sorry, man,” says Dean with a shrug.

“ _Damn_ it, now I owe her a—!” Gabriel stops himself abruptly. “Well, anyway, I gotta get back up to Heaven. Things are a little nuts up there with literally everybody back all at once and it’s either going to be another War or the party of the epoch up there. So. Toodles.” 

And Gabriel is gone.

 _“Winchesters!”_ comes a shout from the other end of the library. They spin around and are now face-to-face with the disapproving glare of the Queen of Hell. 

“Y’ mind givin’ a girl some _warning_ when you’re about to dump a metric tonne of demons on her doorstep!” she admonishes them. Then she pulls it back a notch, “This _was_ you, wasn’t it? I’m honestly just assumin' it was you.”

“Yeah, Rowena, it was us,” Sam says. “Thanks to _your_ notes by the way, thank you.”

“Well— _You’re welcome._ I _suppose,”_ Rowena replies, still testy.

“Sorry, Rowena, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing,” Dean says.

“Oh _was_ it now? I shoulda known. You lot have never thought a _single_ thing through in yer lives.” Her gaze finally lands on where Cas and Dean are holding each other side-by-side. _“Ohh,_ Tweetie-Pie! Congratulations! Oh, I _told_ you he’d come around, now didn’t I?”

“No,” says Cas.

“Oh, sure I did,” Rowena says with a smug look. “Anyway, I better be off. Hell is in more chaos than usual and you know it’s goin’ to take a _sensible_ mind to put it all back in order!”

“Your boyfriend’s back, by the way,” Dean says before she can vanish.

Rowena looks back at him. Slowly. “My what now.”

“Y’know. Gabriel. You just missed him.”

“The angel?”

“Archangel,” Cas corrects.

Rowena’s eyebrows raise particularly high. “Well. How interestin’. Might have to do somethin’ about that, then... Well, goodbye, boys, see you again soon! Don’t forget, we have Bridge next week.”

And Rowena vanished.

“Okay, any other metaphysical visitors wanna stop by this fine evening?” Dean says out into the room.

“It’s morning,” says Jack. “You were gone for four days.”

_“Four days—!”_

“Jack said you were fine!” Sam rushes to assure him. 

“Uh—! Okay!” Dean blinks, trying to shake his shock away. “Okay. Well. Guess he was right. In the end.”

“Yep,” says Jack cheerfully.

While Dean is still stunned, Jack and Sam go back to the table to start cleaning up the spell work. Cas pulls Dean over for a small kiss on the temple, then moves to go talk to Sam and Jack, letting his hand slide down Dean’s arm and to his hand, only letting go at the last moment.

Dean takes the moment to smile at his little family cleaning up the ingredients and closing old books. Cas leans in to say something to Sam, and Sam puts an arm around his shoulders in a tussle-y hug.

As he watches, Adam discreetly comes up to Dean. “Dean?” he asks tentatively.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah?”

“Did you…” Adam begins, “Were you able to…?”

“Oh— He hasn’t—?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh. Dude, I… it was supposed to be everyone, everyone who was there. And he _was_ there, I saw him.”

“I thought... when Gabriel showed up…” Adam sighs, shaking his head. “Maybe he didn’t want to come back. Maybe he’d... rather be in Heaven. I mean, I’m sure they need him there more than I—”

Adam suddenly gasps, his gaze moving out into some middle distance. A beatific smile grows slowly on his face, and his whole body seems to rise, standing tall again.

“I’ll just leave you two alone,” Dean teases. Adam punches him in the arm, and Dean walks away, smiling too, smiling fondly at his littlest brother.

“Yes,” he hears Adam say as he goes, “of _course,_ Michael, yes. You can always come home.” 

We get another shot of Dean looking back, happy for Adam.

Then he turns and says “Alright!” clapping his hands together as he approaches the table. “Who’s up for a family road trip!”

**-Drum snap-**

_Carry on Wayward Son_ plays over the camera following the Impala down a two-lane highway. The car is shining like the day she rolled off the assembly line and running like a dream. We see our boys smiling through the open windows, Dean driving, Cas beside him in the middle, and Sam in the passenger seat. (Trust me, y’all this car is stupid wide.) Dean's arm is slung across the back of the bench seat, around Cas. Adam, Jack, and Eileen are in the backseat, dancing and headbanging with the music, and the sun is shining brightly down on all of them. 

Music still rolling, we cut to a pan across the Impala, Baby is parked in a little asphalt parking lot, which butts up to sand, which is on the ocean, which is where our little family has set up their chairs and umbrellas, all of them wearing ridiculous matching Hawaiian shirts and sipping on bottles of beer. A radio is set up on top of the green cooler, and still, the sun shines on.

The song continues. The scene changes and we cut to back in the bunker. There’s a whole crowd of people in the library, Jody, Donna, the girls, New Bobby, New Charlie, and some new faces, too. Everyone is working on spells or references, but the air is jovial, like a good family reunion. The music dips down so we can hear Dean speak.

“So. What’ve we got?” Dean asks Sam, coming up next to him at one of the long library tables.

“Well, everyone who was in the Empty is going to need a little help and support for a long time, if not indefinitely," says Sam. "And some have reacted differently than others, it’s really case-by-case. Some people need spells, some need potions, some of them, honestly, just need to talk to someone every once in a while. Jack has the demons in particular on a tight program—”

“Yeah, I’m sure Rowena insisted on that.”

“Well, we’re seeing great progress. The stuff Jack is helping me design is really working.”

“Demon rehab, who woulda called it.”

“More like therapy, but yeah. Jack says they'll even be able to leave Hell soon, move on to their final resting places.”

“No shit,” Dean says, clearly glad. “Hey. You, ah... got somethin' for me n' Cas, too?”

“You?”

“Yeah, Sam, we were there, too.”

“Sure, but— I didn't expect you to just— willingly do it.”

“Yeah, well… people change. Shit's different now,” Dean says, shuffling a bit.

Sam smiles at his older brother, clearly happy and proud. He sorts through the piles in front of him, and finds a folder. "Here," he says, still smiling, and hands it to Dean.

"Thanks," Dean says shortly, grateful but still shuffling.

Then Sam seems to remember something. “Oh! Also—” He picks up a newspaper from the top of the stacks and holds it up. “So get this, there's been no monster sightings in _months._ Garth has _nothing_ to report, looks like Jack really came through, all the monsters are either cured or helped, just like he said.” 

“Hey, music to my ears,” says Dean. “And Heaven?”

“Well—”

There’s the rush of wings behind them. They turn around and see Cas, who has just appeared in the library.

“Cas!” Dean says, absolutely beaming, and welcomes him back with a hug and a kiss. “How’re things topside, sweetheart?”

“If you mean Heaven, order has been restored among the angels and the occupants are happier than ever. If you mean the roof, it could use some maintenance.”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I meant Heaven.”

“It's doing very well. Having all four archangels back at the same time has restored a balance that I think we had… all forgotten was missing. And Jack breaking the individual walls between souls has been fantastic for everyone involved.”

Dean pulls Cas over with an arm around his shoulders, dropping a kiss on his temple, “That’s great, babe, I’m so proud of you.”

Cas squirms under the affection. “It was mostly Jack…”

“But you helped. And you’re amazing so I bet you actually made the biggest difference.”

“Oh— Well—” Cas blushes worse than before, but he’s clearly incredibly happy about it.

“Hey, boys?” Bobby calls across the room. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Sam, Dean, and Cas look over, and see Max Banes approaching them.

“Uh… hey, Max. What’s up, man?” Dean says.

Max looks around furtively, then finally mumbles. “I need your help.”

“Well. You came to the right place.”

Max glances around again, then with a guilty pallor, he lifts his hand, showing them a ring with a large, smooth, purple stone. 

“Oh, dude...” Dean laments. He looks over at Sam. “What do you think?”

Sam looks at the soul-dooming ring, then back up to his brother. “I think we’ve got work to do.”

_“Carry on my wayward son,_ _  
__There’ll be peace when you are done,_  
 _Lay your weary head to rest,_ _  
_ _Don’t you cry, don't you cry no more”_

### -Commercial Break-

“...and by the power vested in me by my _nephew,_ whoa boy, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Gabriel’s words set off a humongous cheer in the crowd of spectators. People dressed in everything from tuxes to their nicest flannels to one guy in overalls throw up their hands and shout for Sam and Eileen as they kiss under the arch set up for their wedding, with Dean and Cas and Jack and Charlie standing as Sam’s groomsmen.

The scene moves back to the bunker, where a huge reception is laid out, food for days, dancing in the library, the whole nine yards. It’s big and it’s raucous, and the bunker is full of love and joy and happy drunk people.

Up on the landing at the front door, at a small table with two chairs, Dean and Cas are enjoying a quiet moment by themselves, watching the people below.

“You know, this is way better than his first wedding,” says Dean.

“His what?” Cas turns a frown on him.

Dean quietly laughs, smiling to himself as he raises his drink to his lips. “Remind me to tell you about it later.”

They fall quiet again, Cas visibly trying to figure out what the heck Dean is talking about, Dean just watching the crowd.

“I was never sure I’d see this day,” Dean says, his tone more somber.

Cas lets his confusion fall away and he gives Dean a glance, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“Always wanted to, of course,” Dean says, “always wanted to be his best man, _hah,_ maybe even walk him down the aisle!” He takes a sip off his drink. _“Ah,_ but it’s fair Bobby did that. Old Bobby would have called dibs, too.”

“He was very happy when I told him about it,” Cas assures him.

“I bet he was.”

They watch the crowd for a while, each quietly content. Then Cas stirs in his seat, fiddling with the beer bottle in his hands.

“...Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I would like to talk to you about something. It’s important, and you asked me to warn you when I wanted to talk about something important.”

“Oh. Well, ah— thanks for remembering this time. I mean, seriously, you can’t just spring an engagement on someone, even if we all saw Kaia and Claire coming a mile away.”

“Right. I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Spilled a whole beer down my shirt.”

“I know, Dean.”

Dean chuckles as he takes another sip of his drink. “So what’s on your mind, buddy?” he says as he reaches for Cas’s hand. Cas meets him across the small table and interlocks their fingers. 

Cas takes a steadying breath. “You know that I… I Fell a long time ago, Dean.”

“Nah, we talked about this, Cas. You were the only one who was right the whole time.”

“Yes. I know,” Cas says with a small smile. “But I... have been thinking. A lot. And I decided… I want to finish the process.”

Dean frowns, turning away from the crowd below to give his full attention to Cas. “And… what exactly does that mean?” he asks calmly, though anyone can see he’s concerned.

“It means... I would like to remove my grace. I would like to become human, or as close as I can get to it.”

Dean stares at Cas for a moment, before he twists and puts his drink down on the table with a sigh. “Boy, you weren’t kidding about ‘important’.”

“I would never. I value your trust in me too much.”

“Of course, Cas, yeah.” Dean runs his free hand down his face. “You’re sure about this?”

“Very.”

“Shouldn’t we be worried about… like… how that’s going to affect you? I mean... as far as keeping the Empty's pull at bay?”

“It’s a concern. But I have the program Sam set up for me, and I’ve discussed it with my Healer, and I have you, of course.” He squeezes Dean’s hand. “I will feel the pull of the Empty’s despair more thoroughly than before, but I’ll also feel joy, and victory, and love as well.”

Dean gives a small, deflective laugh. “You been lovin’ me on half power this whole time, babe?”

“No. I love you with every atom of my being, both physical and not. Everything I am loves you completely and always will.”

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to woo me anymore, you’ve already got me.”

Cas smiles at that. He continues, “I’ll just... feel it more, I'll know it more fully and completely than I have in years. And I look forward to that very much.”

Dean takes a deep breath. We can see that this is difficult for him not to freak out about, but he's trying. “Well… I can’t think of any objections. Though I think we should ask Michael about it, see if he has anything to caution you about. Unforeseen complications.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“Good.” Dean calms down a bit. He picks up his drink again and takes a sip. “So what’re you planning on doin’ with it?”

“Doing with what?”

“Your grace. You gonna plant a big tree over the bunker? Cover the walls in moss?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Cas says in all seriousness. “Actually... I want to give it to you.”

Dean chokes on his drink, spilling half of it down his shirt. “You want to— Me? Why?”

“I’d like you to keep it safe,” Cas says. He reaches out his hand, offering to clean Dean up with a touch, but Dean waves him off, using a napkin himself. “I’d like it to be yours, to hold and protect. I’d like to give it to you, and to grow old with you, Dean. If you’ll have me.” 

Dean freezes, drink held out away from him, napkin mid-blot at his tux shirt, and slowly turns to look over at Cas.

“Cas… do you want to... angel-marry me?”

“I’d rather human-marry you someday, that’s kind of my whole point.”

Dean blinks. He may have stopped breathing.

Cas tips his head and squints at him, “Dean…?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

_“Yes.”_

“‘Yes’, what?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you, Cas! Angel or otherwise! Christ, that’s what you’re asking, right? I— Oh— _Crap,_ did I just—”

“No— I mean, yes— I mean— yes, I— I suppose that is what I’m asking. I—” Horror flashes across Castiel’s face and he practically jumps out of his seat, dropping to one knee in front of Dean. “Dean. I-I don’t have a ring, I’m so sorry, but— Will you marry me?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I already said yes!” Dean laughs, pulling Cas back up so he can kiss him properly. “Shit— I love you so much, Cas—”

“I love you, too, Dean—”

"Fuck—!" Dean bubbles with a joyous, incredulous laugh. "Fuck..."

They eventually settle back down, their poor bow-ties a little more rumpled than a minute ago. 

Dean picks up his drink once more, and finishes it off.

“We... _cannot_ announce this right now,” he says. “It would be the dickest move... _ever.”_

“Tomorrow then?” suggests Cas.

“More like next week, let Sam and Eileen have their honeymoon first.” Dean looks over at Cas, all the love and happiness in the world shining in his eyes. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’ll keep. We’ve got plenty of time.”

-scene change-

“How many endings does this book _have?_ I swear it’s worse than the movie.” Dean complains, but Charlie is having none of it.

Dean is seated in one of the comfy chairs in the library. Charlie is in the one beside him, reading the last chapter of _Return of the King_ to him. They’re both old, gray-haired and lined with wrinkles. On their left hands they each wear a simple wedding ring. 

“Then why do I read the whole series to you at least once a year, huh?” Charlie needles him.

“Because you went and got me hooked on it! Never was big into fantasy until you and Other you came along.”

“So you’re saying I led you to a more inspired and fulfilling life, you’re welcome.”

“Ahh, can it, y’ old broad.”

“You first, grandpa.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.”

They settle down. Then Dean speaks again. “I’m just a sucker for some Aragorn and Arwen.”

“And Sam and Frodo!”

“Well, duh, of course Sam and Frodo. But y’know, Aragorn and Arwen is so…”

“Yeah, I get it,” Charlie says. “Some straight ships have rights.”

Dean laughs at this resurgence of now-ancient internet-speak from Charlie. 

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s just so damn… romantic, ya know? The yearning, and the long distance, and the we-can’t-be-together, and the gifts…” Dean reaches a hand into his shirt, and pulls out a tiny vial on a chain. He cradles the vial lovingly in his hand. “I’m just a sap for romantic gifts.”

Charlie, meanwhile, is staring at the vial. “So he did keep it,” she says.

“Nah, not exactly. Gave it to me, to keep it safe. _Just in case,_ he always said, _just in case..._ But we never needed it, never even wanted it. But I got it here, safe and sound.” 

“Just like he wanted.”

“Well, you know I can’t refuse him a thing.”

“You old softie.”

“Damn right.”

At this point Castiel comes up from the map room. His hair is also gray, and his face is also lined, and he even has a bit of a tummy on him. He’s dressed in a comfortable-looking sweater, slacks, and slippers, and is a little winded from the climb up the stairs. 

“Next time your ancestors create a secret labyrinth of a central base,” he huffs, “tell them to put in some damned ramps.”

“I’ll pass the memo on right away, sweetheart.”

“Aww. Pet names,” coo’s Charlie. “I swear you two are the cutest.”

“Cutest ass this side of the Mississippi,” Dean declares. Charlie gags dramatically as Cas smirks. “Now, hey, doesn’t Stevie expect you home soon?”

“Ah! Yes!” Charlie jumps up, taking note of the time. _“Ahh,_ but we didn’t finish!”

“Will you come back and finish the last bit tomorrow night? I think Cas and I are ready for bed anyway.”

“Why bother? You’ve basically got the whole thing memorized by now.”

“Yeah, but I like when you read it. You do good voices.”

“Oh, alright. Goodnight, Dean.”

“‘Night Charlie.”

Charlie places a kiss on Dean's forehead and gives him a big hug, then she hurries out as quickly as she can while Cas gives Dean a hand getting up out of his chair. It’s a bit of an ordeal, and Dean uses a cane to leverage himself up, but they make it, and they both shuffle down the hallway to the bedrooms. 

“Gonna have to get up early tomorrow,” Dean says. “Sam is sendin’ some curse researchers over who want a look at the library and chat with you, gonna whip up a big lunch for all of you.”

“I know you love to, Dean, but you know you don't have to do that, we have the trainees.”

“I know, I know, but yeah, I love doin' it! Besides, we're the Caretakers, Cas, it's our job to Take Care of 'em. And of this place,” he pats the tiled wall as they walk on, “though really she seems to take care of us, doesn't she?”

“It's a building, Dean.”

“Ahh, c'mon, where's the fun in that?”

Cas chuckles as they arrive at their bedroom door. It's a little further off than the other bedrooms, the suite meant for the Man of Letters who ran the bunker. “I always thought of Baby as your home.”

“Well, sure, and she always will be, but Sam's girl is taking good care of her now. Man, she can really drive her, too, nearly gave me a heart attack when she took us for that ride the other day!” 

“You used to only drive fast.”

“Yeah, well, I got old! I don't go _fast_ anymore!” Dean says with a wide smile. He shakes his head, “Still can't believe Claire didn't want the car.”

“She said, and I quote, that it was ‘way too butch' for her.”

“Yeah, she's always had terrible taste,” Dean teases. “Except in women. Got real lucky with Kaia.”

“Very,” Cas agrees.

They get ready for bed, Dean moving slowly and a little shakily, like he's hurting. He gets into a sitting position in bed and it seems like a monumental effort.

 _“Ohh-ho-ho,_ I don't know how many more times I can do that. I tell you, Cas, I feel it, any day now.”

“I know, Dean,” Cas says, getting into bed next to him. He takes Dean's hand and leans in, resting his forehead against Dean's. “That doesn't mean I'm any more eager for it.”

“I know, Cas, I know. But it's time, sweetheart. I had my good run, got more years than I ever thought I'd get, and I got so many with you, with Sam and the kids, and all their kids…” Dean sighs happily. “I'm ready to go.”

Cas sighs, too, though not happily. He tips up his chin and gives Dean a small kiss.

As they pull back, Dean watches Cas. As he does, his expression turns wistful and he says, gently, “Sweetheart?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Would you tell me again? What it says?”

Cas’s eyes crinkle, and he gives Dean one of those small smiles, those ones that from Cas are like the light of the sun. He kisses Dean again, and places his hand upon Dean’s chest.

 _“This beautiful face and body, I have remade anew,”_ Cas begins, his voice is low, reverent, as his fingers move oh-so gently across Dean’s ribs, _“this form which I, this Angel of Fire, have recreated in Glory, so that in Glory he may Live, this exemplar of Man, Full of Stars, I Sing the many praises of this precious treasure._

_“Thou dreadful assailant, should you dare harm him, Smited shalt thou be. Foul Beast, be warned, by this wondrous Angel, Keeper of Holy Fire, your rotten creation will be Undone, for this resplendent, Righteous man, is protected unto my last essence, protected, thus, unto Forevermore.”_

Dean breathes out a sigh, and he opens eyes which had closed as Cas recited his wardings. Smiling serenely, with all the love one man can hold, he caresses Cas’s cheek. “Thank you, Cas.”

And Cas smiles in return, and leans in to kiss Dean once more.

There's a tentative knock at their door. They look up as it opens, and Jack enters the room. He looks a little older to us, but not by much.

“Hello, Jack,” says Cas, “is something wrong?”

“Yeah, you weren't coming over until next week,” says Dean. “What happened, is Valhalla uprising? Crazy witch cult? Oh, maybe Atlantis has risen, we never did anything like that before.”

“No. Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine.” Jack looks at Dean. “It's just time.”

For everything Dean said a few minutes ago, he pulls back a bit, his hand tightening on Cas's. “What… now?”

“I'm afraid so.”

It takes a moment, a deep breath, and a look at Cas, but eventually Dean nods. He puts on a smile and turns back to Jack. “Curbside service, huh, kid? I’m honored.”

“It seemed fitting. And… also…” Jack shuffles sheepishly, “none of the Reapers want to be anywhere near you.”

Dean barks out a laugh. “You hear that, sweetheart? I’ve still got it!”

“You never lost it,” says Cas.

“Oh, I lost it forty years ago. Still tryin' to hunt at fifty, what was I thinking?” But Dean's smile falls, “Aww, but Sammy and Adam aren't here, and Eileen…”

Now Jack smiles.

From behind him, a slightly stooped but still incredibly tall Sam steps out, followed by Eileen and Adam. Sam and Eileen have aged but Adam has not. The three approach his bedside, smiling but teary-eyed.

“Hey, Dean,” says Sam.

“Heya, Sammy.” Dean sniffles, though he tries to hide it. “Didn't know this would be a party!” he says, supplementing his speech with Sign. (From this point on, everyone signs as they speak when their hands are free.) He sniffles again. Then he takes a breath and says, “Alright! Well, you all know what I want, a big-ass party and no sobbin'! Beer and burgers for days, oh, and those tiny little hotdogs, you know I love those things... And don't you idiots try to cut all that wood yourselves! Cas'll throw his back out again and I'll come haunt your asses!”

“You think I'll let Sam within twenty feet of an ax? After last Christmas?” says Eileen.

Sam blusters at this, “I _told_ you guys, the balance on that thing was—!”

“I'm sure the kids are going to insist,” Cas says, and everyone settles down. 

“Well, then, I guess… goodbye, everybody,” Dean says. “I love you.”

“Goodbye, Dean,” says Sam.

There's a beat of quiet, before Dean huffs impatiently, “Well, come on, get over here! You're not gettin' out that easy!”

Dean manages to sit up a little more and Sam comes in to give him the biggest hug they can manage. 

“Love you, Sammy.”

“Love you, too, Dean.”

“We had a good run, man, didn't we. Made a great story for ourselves.”

“Not a story, Dean. A life. A really, _really_ great life.”

Sam steps back and Dean exchanges hugs and affections with Eileen and Adam as well. Then he sits back against the headboard and turns to Cas, taking his hand. His other hand rises to cradle Cas's cheek, and he kisses him. When they part, Dean gently wipes a tear from under Cas's eye with his thumb. “I love you, Cas.”

Cas is doing what he can to hold it together. “I love you, too, Dean.”

Jack approaches the bed now. Dean turns back to Jack, and gives him a big hug, too. As Jack stands back up, he takes Dean's hand. Dean reaches for Cas with the other and Cas holds that hand again, between both of his own.

Dean exchanges a last smile with everyone gathered, then his eyes start to droop, and he leans his head back against the headboard, and he releases his final breath.

The camera shifts, and we see Dean now standing next to Jack. He glows slightly, with the light of a soul. 

Dean looks down at himself, “Wow…!” and looks up again, to Cas, who is still holding the hand of Dean's body on the bed. "How do I look, babe?"

"Brighter than ever," says Cas, and oh, the tears are falling now. 

"Flatterer," says Dean, but it's a gentle tease.

Cas manages a smile. He swallows and turns to Jack. "Take care of him, Jack."

Jack looks slightly confused, "He’s going to a Heaven you designed. He’s going to be very happy."

 _“Ohhh,_ I _knew_ it!” Dean smiles, “I knew it, I _knew_ it, Cas, you sneaky dog!”

“I am not a dog.”

“Debatable.” He winks at Cas. Cas gives him a small chuckle, and Dean’s grin softens to a smile. “I love you, Cas.”

“I love you, too, Dean. I’ll see you soon.”

“Not too soon, y’hear?”

Cas smiles at him, even as another tear rolls down his cheek. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean hops a little, excited, like the old pain is now gone. "Alright, kid, stairway to heaven, here we go!"

And then he and Jack are gone. Cas sags where he sits, and all pretense is over, and he sobs.

Sam turns to Adam. "Would you…?"

Adam gives a small, sad smile. "Of course." His eyes flash with grace, and we hear the sound of wings as Michael and Adam return to Heaven, evidently to make sure Dean arrives safely. 

Sam and Eileen go to Cas, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him hugs as he caresses Dean's hand. 

-scene change-

Dean opens his eyes, and he is somewhere else. 

The camera pulls back, and Dean is in day clothes now, but he is still elderly, the same age as we just saw him. He turns around, and he's in front of the Roadhouse. A big smile spreads on Dean's face and he rushes inside. 

As soon as the door opens he's greeted by an explosion of cheers, everyone they've lost is here, Ash and Jo and Ellen and Rufus and Bobby and Bobby's wife Karen, Charlie and Pam and Missouri and Kevin, the crowd is filled with everyone we can get back who isn't an angel, (well, hey, maybe the angels visit sometimes, too). There are even some demon faces here, looking happier and healthier than we've ever seen them. John and Mary, too, young and happy with the weight of life lifted from them, and they greet Dean warmly. The bar stretches out forever, and there's a door that connects into a version of the bunker, where even more friendly faces are waiting. 

After the camera has explored this a bit, it returns to the front door. It opens, and we see elderly Cas come in. Another raucous cheer is raised, and Dean rushes to embrace him. Sam enters just a few minutes behind him.

“Hey! What took you so long!” Dean jokes.

“Too busy raising great-grandkids!” Sam says, beaming. “I wish you could have seen them, Dean, they're beautiful.”

Dean claps Sam on the back with the best smile yet. “That's my boy.”

Then Eileen enters not long after Sam, then another friend enters, then another, and another, all looking elderly and well-lived. 

Sam and Dean and Cas's little piece of Heaven fills and fills with friends and family, full of good memories and great stories. The light shines bright through the windows and they talk and drink and dance and carry on in this infinite evening, and everything is good. 

And they rest.

## -Roll Credits-

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my friends. Thank you for reading this story. I hope it helps you in reading it as it helped me in writing it.
> 
> The big-picture outline of this— getting Cas back from the empty, Dean’s confession, everyone living to a nice old age THEN going to a reformed heaven— is honestly where I thought the original storyline was taking us, what the writing room made as obvious as they could, and what we were robbed of. The details— the exact method used to get to the empty, Adam being around, Dean needing to apologize to Jack (and his younger-self mirror), the angels and demons, the entirety of my epilogue, human!Cas or angel!Cas— are the details I chose, and are the kinds of choices I was so excited to see the writers and actors make. But we didn't see it. And so I had to make those choices.
> 
> For example, one of those choices was that, when I started writing, I originally planned to have Cas choose to remove his grace in order to leave the Empty. I love that idea. But as this story came together, I found I didn’t need Cas to do that, or even really want him to do that, or else everyone else would have to become human, too, in order to leave like I wanted them to. It probably would have turned out just as great, but as someone who has periodic bouts of depression, I found that the ending I really wanted was for everyone to receive external help and support, and that their connection to the Empty wouldn't magically go away with no consequences. See, when your depression is periodic, (I can’t speak for the experience of clinical depression) you don’t actively choose for the depression to end, it just sort of… gets better. And then it gets worse. And then better, who knows how long later. And those fluctuations can’t be fully controlled by your personal choices. External forces can help, and your own choices can help, no doubt, they definitely do, so Dean’s message of his love and their family’s love, and the fact that Chuck is gone, are factors that help this Cas want to fight to get out of the Empty, but Cas simply removing his grace and magically freeing himself from all of the power of the Empty, I just didn’t like that. So instead later, when Cas is in a much more stable place, when he has help and support and knows so certainly that he is loved by all of his found-family members, that’s when he chooses to remove his final defense, his grace which dampens his feelings and emotions, his metaphorical shut-it-out coping mechanism forced onto him by being Of The Angels. He removes that last wall between him and his chosen life, and he is rewarded with the full experience of a life with Dean and the rest of their family.
> 
> That is all an artistic choice *I* made. But what would our writers and actors and crew, who have been with this story for fifteen years and this particular story arc for at least the last 4, have chosen to do? I made Dean and Cas Caretakers of the bunker, where one can assume Dean cooks to his heart’s content and lovingly maintains the cars of the hunters who stay at the bunker, and that Cas guides researchers with his incredible knowledge of the ages, and maybe tends a garden outside the bunker, and is valued highly for not only his tactical advice but for his dry jokes and subtle smiles. I made Sam the witchy de-facto leader of this new form of the Men of Letters, the hunting community in general. I had them all continue working, specifically focusing on the problems of people, because sure, you can get rid of the monsters and angels and demons, but then you still have people. People with magic who can set curses and cause trouble. I have the boys continue to deal with that, and set up a community of helpers, not hunters. But would the show have done something like that? Or would they have Dean and Cas leave the hunting world behind completely, move out of the bunker to a house with a yard, and adopt more kids besides Claire and Jack and the rest of our youngins? Or would they have Dean and Cas stay but Sam leaves, living the apple-pie life with Eileen? Or would they have done something else entirely? Something else I can’t think of because there’s a detail or a metaphor that I missed so far in my interpretation of this epic-length story but the production crew kept in mind? That’s what we were robbed of, and that’s what I grieve. Writing this helped immensely, and I think now with this catharsis that I can healthily move on, and like I said I hope it helps you, too. But I’ll always carry this anger, this betrayal and this wrong done to us, as fans, as queer humans, as disabled humans, as people with depression or who deal with suicidal thoughts, as people who struggle with self-worth, as people who desperately wish for people like us to get emotional closure and a damned happy ending, and I will carry it into future projects. I may have given our boys their final rest, but for me... I’ve still got work to do.


End file.
